


Are you staying?

by the_bait



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romantic Fluff, sterek
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-06
Updated: 2018-10-03
Packaged: 2018-12-24 19:21:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12019353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_bait/pseuds/the_bait
Summary: Derek comes back to Beacon Hills hoping to find a way to get his life back together.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This a very new fic. Stiles is over 18 here because underage fics just irk me. Derek is nearly 22. They're just a couple years apart. 
> 
> My first language is not english so please bear with me and my misspelled words!

Derek was used to being alone. At nearly twenty-two, he had thought that, by now, he’d have a pack. Or, if not a pack, then something resembling a pack. Like friends. And a home. And people he could invite over to watch a movie or to have dinner with. And he thought he’d have a girlfriend. Or a boyfriend.

Turns out that having a major life changing event that took away nearly his entire family, scarred him for life. And he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do about it.

“Perhaps coming back to Beacon Hills was not the best option, Derek.”

Derek sighed and sat down. Coming back to Beacon Hills had been a sudden decision. After leaving with Braeden, months ago, he had thought he’d be leaving Beacon Hills behind forever. And he meant to. He _really_ did. But he felt lonely.

Braeden was...nice. He felt almost normal with her. Like he could forget the giant hole in his heart or that, sometimes, it was hard to even draw breath or leave his bed. But it ended. Like everything seemed to end in his life. He tried going on; tried to get a job and rent a place and live all by himself. But there was always a part of him that earned for the comfort of _home_ and _people_.

He knew he should probably see someone about that.

“Maybe you should see someone about that, Derek. They would help you.”

Derek sighed again. Maybe coming to Deaton right after he got to Beacon Hills wasn’t the best decision. He was looking for comfort, someone to welcome him, update him on everything he had missed while he was away. But, of course, Deaton would not be of any actual help.

“So you think I should go away again?”

Deaton shook his head and folded his hands. “I didn’t say that, exactly. But Beacon Hills will never have a good connotation with you, it will always bring back bad memories, will it not?”

Derek sighed again. Coming here was definitely a bad decision.

“What am I to do, then?”

“That is up to you to find out.”

Derek groaned internally.

 

*

 

Going back to the Loft was... _harder_. For all that he was cursing Deaton in his head throughout the entire length of their conversation, he was right. Coming bak was bringing back bad memories and this place still smelled like blood and death.

He put his bag down and left.

 

He was walking around town when he caught the scent. He stopped in his tracks and moved his head towards the smell. Walking down the street were Lydia Martin and Stiles Stilinski. Lydia looked perfect, as always. Her long, red hair was tied at the top of head, her lipstick bright and her clothes fit her figure perfectly. She was looking ahead, brow forrowed in concentration as she listened to Stiles rant - _probably_ . Stiles was gesturing with his hands, as per usual; his eyes focused on Lydia like he was trying to make a point and it was really important. His hair was...long. Longer than ever, it was touching the base of his neck, falling in careless waves. And he had... _grown a beard?_

Derek suddenly remembered he had missed both their birthdays and that, at this time of year, they were supposed to be in college. _Weren’t they?_ Derek had texted Lydia a couple times, to see if she was alright. He had also tried to text Scott but he mostly replied with a yes or no answer and that was the extent of their conversations. He texted Stiles more often, though. He was sure it was because he couldn’t keep his mouth shut for five minutes and because, somehow, he and Scott were not talking as much.

Last time he spoke to Stiles, he could hear the anxiety in his voice as he talked about Berkely: how excited he was, how nervous; how worried he’d be about his father; and would he even make any friends. That was a few moths ago. He suddenly felt guilty he didn’t tell him he was coming back. Or about Braeden. Not that he had told anyone. But still. He knew Stiles cared. In his own way.

He turned and walked towards them.

Lydia saw him first, of course. She stopped and reached a hand to Stiles’s chest to stop him.. Her mouth hang loose and her eyes were bright.

Stiles turned to look at whatever it was she was looking at, with a confused look on his face. When he saw him, Derek could hear him utter the words _‘motherfucker’_ under his breath.

“Hello.”

They stood there, Lydia’s hand on Stiles’s chest, both their mouths opened slightly.

“Hum,” he crossed his arms, “how are you two doing?”

Stiles recovered first. “You motherfucker. You’re back?!”

“Er, yeah. Came back like an hour ago.”

Stiles was shaking his head in disbelief.

“What about Braeden,” asked Lydia, “is she back, too?”

Derek looked down. “No. It didn’t work.”

“You’re not with her anymore?”

Derek shook his head at her.

“So,” started Stiles, “you’re back? For good this time? No running off to god knows where without a goobye text or a phone call or…”

“I texted you!” he said defensively.

“After you had left town!” Stiles raised his voice and took a step forward.

“Why are you mad at me? I called and we texted multiple times and you didn’t scream at me then.”

“That’s because I wasn’t seeing your face. I am seeing your face now and you know what, I fucking hate it!”

Derek was at a loss for words. He looked at Lydia. She had her lips pursed and was looking at them like she was displeased at the way they both were behaving. Like it was _his_ fault!

“Stiles,” he tried again, “I texted. And I called. And you talked. We talked a lot, actually. You never once mentioned you were mad I left town.”

Stiles was about to answer, and by the look on his face, he knew he was about to get  an earful, but Lydia got between them and pushed Stiles away.

“Look, boys, this is _really_ not the time or place.” She pointedly look at Stiles and then at Derek. _Goddamnit._

“Fine,” he said. “I’ll call you tonight.”

“I won’t answer.”

“I’ll come over.”

“I’ll lock my window.”

“I’ll _knock!”_

“ _You wouldn’t!”_

He narrowed his eyes at Stiles. “Try me.”

Stiles look like he was about to knee him in the balls but he huffed a breath and shoved him out of the way.

Lydia saw him go and sighed.

“Look,” she turned to look at him, “you left and everything went to shit.”

“Wh-”

“Don’t interrupt me. You left for _months_ , Derek. You left and, honestly, did you really think Scott was up for the job? Yes, he is an alpha, but he’s had no training. He fell in love and then he got his heart broken and you know how he gets when he’s in love. He gets stupid. And in the middle of everyone trying to kill us, and all the shit people kept throwing at us, Stiles was having a hard time. A _really_ hard time. And neither of us noticed because we were caught up in _our_ own shit.” She let out a breath and shook her head. “Stiles kept saying we should call you, ask for you help, bring you back, because you’d know how to deal with these supernatural creatures. But we didn’t. And pushed him farther away. And we _did_ deal with everything. But Stiles…” Derek didn’t think he’d ever seen this look on Lydia’s face, like she’d been hurting and breaking while trying to piece together someone that wasn’t her. “He left for college and he didn’t say goodbye to any of us. He up and left. No goodbye party, or a text message or...well. I keep saying he pulled a Derek.” Derek looked at her sternly. “What? Anyway, we went to college. All of us to different places.” She paused and looked down the street. He could see Stiles waiting for her next to a boutique, hands in his pockets and head down. “He wasn’t alright. His dad decided it was best he came home for a while.”

“What happened?”

She shook her head. “Talk to him, if you want. If wants to, he’ll tell you. He’s not really mad at you, you know? He’s just…” she shrugged. “It was good to see you, Derek.”

Then she left, walking down the street to meet Stiles. She touched his shoulder and wrapped her arm around his back and pulled him in a hug. He saw Stiles drop his head in the crook of her neck and shake a little bit.

 _Shit_. It had been a mistake coming back.

 

*  
Derek was getting ready to leave the house. He tried to text Stiles, and he tried to call; he woulnd’t pick up. He had texted Scott after getting home, telling him he was back in town and offering his help, if it was needed.  His reply was short:

 

_I’m away at college. But Lydia and Stiles are home, you can talk to them._

 

It was a little bit past dinner time. He wanted to drop off by Stiles’s place, talk to him and come back with some chinese food.

He was grabbing his wallet and shoving it in his pocket when he heard the distinct sound of Stiles’s Jeep in the parking lot. He stopped. Dropping his jacket on the couch, he walked to the door and downstairs. It was already dark out, and a chilly wind was blowing. Stiles was out of his jeep, but he had his harms ands resting against his cars, his head bowed down between then. Derek could hear the frantic heart beat and his shuddering breaths.

He moved slowly, not wanting to scare him.

“I thought you didn’t want to talk to me.”

Stiles’s heartbeat sped up and he turned to look at him. “I didn’t want your furry ass showing up at my door.”

“I was getting ready to go there.”

“My dad has guns. Are you crazy?”

“Your dad likes me.”

Stiles just snorted and leaned against the Jeep. “He’d still shoot you.”

Derek shrugged. “Wanna come in?”

He nodded and followed Derek up the stairs and into the Loft. Derek closed the door behind them.

“I don’t have any food. I was planning on getting chinese. I can order us some, if you’re hungry.”

“Sure.”

Derek nodded and picked up the phone and placed the order.

“I like what you’ve done with the place.”

Derek rolled his eyes. “I came back this afternoon, Stiles.”

He shrugged and played at his frayed shirt.

“You’re awful quiet.”

“I thought that’s how people liked me,” he snapped.

“What’s happening?”

“What the fuck do you mean?” he said angrily.

“Stiles.”

“What?”

“Stop being a little shit. What happened when I was away?”

“You mean when you-”

“ _Stiles_.”

Stiles looked at him sideways and sighed. “Nothing. I couldn’t deal with some things, that’s all.”

“Some things?”

Stiles just nodded.

“Lydia says you’re taking some time off from Berkeley.”

“I am.”

“You stopped calling and texting after a while.”

He shrugged.

“How was Berkeley?”

Stiles didn’t speak for a few minutes. Derek was sitting next to him on the couch, both of them staring at the open window.

“It was okay. The people were nice. I met some nice people.”

“Were you in a dorm?”

He nodded. “Yeah. The guy I was with was really nice, too. He always had extra food to share with me. And he was into Star Wars. We watched a couple of them one night.”

“And class?”

“Class was okay, too. I was procrastinating a lot, though, so I was behind on a few things.”

“I remember doing that in High School. And then Laura would scream at me till I sat down and did my homework.” _God,_ did he miss Laura.

“She was the mean older sister?”

“She was the coolest sister.”

Stiles nodded, but there a small smile on his lips.

“How is your dad? And Scott? I tried talking to him but I think he’s busy.”

At that, Stiles’s eyes darkened. “He’s away at college. He got into the one he wanted, so…” he picked up a pillow and started playing with its edges. “My father’s alright, too. Now that I’m home I’ve been cooking. He’s been complaining a lot.”

“Because you’re a shit cook?”

Stiles hit him with the pillow. “No, you fuck, because I make _healthy_ food. He hates it.”

“And probably because you’re a shit cook.”

This time he stopped the pillow from hitting his face.

“What happened between you and Braeden? If yu don’t mind my asking. If you don’t wanna talk-”

“No,” he interrupted, “it’s fine. We just didn’t work out. She...well, she was nice but,” he shook his head, “it just didn’t work.”

“And now you’re back.”

He nodded. “I’m still not sure this wasn’t a mistake.”

“Coming back?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s Beacon Hills.”

“I tried going away and it didn’t work out either, so I don’t know.”

Derek looked at him. There were bags under his eyes and he could see he’d been biting his nails to the point of drawing blood. He could see and smell it on his fingers.

“Have you been sleeping?”

Stiles just shrugged and shook his head. “It...Sometimes I do.”

Derek nodded. “I’m thinking about getting a new place.”

“ _What?!”_

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

He made a gesture with his hand to the living room and the rest of the Loft. “This is a terrible place to live in. I hate it.”

“Bad memories.”

“Yes. That, too.”

“So, what are you going to do, now?”

“I don’t know. Get a job? Finish my degree?”

“Wait, _what?!_ You went to college?”

Derek snorted. “Yes, you dork. A semester. Then it just became too much and…” he sighed. “I left.”

“What were you taking?”

“History.”

“History?”

“Yes, History.”

Stiles was looking at him with a raised eyebrow. “What?” Derek asked.

“Nothing. Just. History, _really_?”

“Oh, shut up.”

The door bell rang and Derek went downstairs to pay for the food. When he came back, Stiles was in the Kitchen looking for plates and forks.

“Dude, seriously. You lived here for, what, months before you left? How you come you only have like, three plates and two forks?”

Derek shrugged and took the bags to the coffee table.

“What did you bring?” he said, clapping his hands together and looking into the bags.

 

*

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

“Honestly, I thought you were getting a new place. This is just depressing, man.”

“What are you doing here, Stiles?”

It was one o’clock in the morning on a Tuesday night. Derek had been up, doing some house hunting on his laptop when his phone buzzed next to him.

**> Are you up?**

Stiles. He sighed but answered. Twenty minutes later there was a knock on his door.

“We’re hanging.”

“It’s one thirty in the morning.”

“Yeah,” he said sitting on the couch, “but we’re both up.”

Derek sighed but sat down next to him. “What are you doing here?”

“You said you were moving.”

“It’s been a week. I’m working on it.”

Stiles just hummed. He was playing with the hem of his shirt and looking around. There were dark circles under his eyes and his nails were still chewed to the point of bleeding.

“You haven’t been sleeping.”

“No.”

“Does your dad know?”

He nodded. “Yeah. One of the reasons he made me come back home.”

“But you still can’t sleep.”

“No.”

“Are you seeing someone?” When Stiles looked at him funny he added, “I mean, a therapist, or something?”

Stiles snorted. “Sure, that’d go well.”

“Why not?”

“Did it work with you?”

“Stiles,” he rubbed his hands together, “I don’t think we have the same problem.”

“Yeah, but you never did go to one.”

“No. But Deaton keeps telling me I should.”

“I think you should, too.”

He leaned back on the couch and let his head rest and his eyes close. “If I go, will you?”

“I’d think about it.”

Derek looked at him sideways, eyes narrowed. It wasn’t a lie. “Okay, then.”

“You’re agreeing to seeing a therapist?”

“Yes.”

“Really.”

“Really. Now drop it.”

  
  


A couple hours later, Derek was beat. He could barely keep his eyes open. But Stiles was still sitting on his couch, feet propped on the coffee table, playing with his phone.

“Does your dad know you’re here?”

“He’s on the night shift.”

“You didn’t tell him?”

“I told him you’re back.”

“You did?” he asked.

Stiles nodded. “Yeah. Don’t sound so surprised.”

Derek shrugged. “But you didn’t tell him we’re hanging.”

“ _ Hanging? _ ”

Derek just pinched the bridge of his nose.

“No. I didn’t tell him.”

“Are you two getting along?”

At that, Stiles’s face softened. “Yeah. He’s been a big help. The other day I woke up to the smell of pancakes. They were fucking delicious. I missed just sitting down and eating his food. He makes the best pancakes, I swear. My mom used to make them every Sunday morning and it was the highlight of my week.”

“Mom used to cook us brunch on Sundays. It was crazy, all of us around the table, wolfing down the food in like ten minutes,” Derek said smiling.

“Aw, man, I wish I could have known you when you were a kid. I bet you were this spaz, just like me, and then you just kinda,” he made a weird hand gesture and pointed at Derek, “grew into yourself.”

“I wasn’t a spaz! You’re a spaz.”

“Great comeback. And you kinda already knew that.”

“You’re not so bad, anymore.”

“Nah!” He put his hand to his chest and feigned surprise. “Derek Hale paid me a  _ compliment _ ?” Derek punched his arm.

“No, but really. Our moms were the best. I didn’t know yours but putting up with a bunch of hungry werewolves was probably a full time job. Couldn’t have been easy.”

“Yeah, no, it wasn’t. But she had us on a tight leash. Her and dad were great,” he smiles fondly at the memories. It hurt a little bit less each time he talked about them. And he knew he didn’t talk about them as much as he should. But sometimes it was hard. His chest would seize and he found this lump in his throat and he couldn’t talk or think about them. And his brothers and sisters. 

“I had a lot of siblings. They were amazing, too.”

“Mom and dad didn’t want more kids. I asked dad once if they at least tried after having me, but he said mom just wanted one kid. And that I was a handful.”

Derek smiled at Stiles’s flushed cheeks. “That I don’t doubt. But did you ever want a brother or a sister?”

Stiles shrugged. “I did, I think. But then I met Scott.”

Derek didn’t miss the way his face changed at the mention of Scott.

“It must have been nice, growing up together. I don’t I’d have turned out the way I did if I didn’t have any siblings. You hate them sometimes but there’s also nothing you wouldn’t do to protect them.” 

When Stiles didn’t answer, he looked up. He was chewing his bottom lip and scratching his right hand. It was red.

“Hey,” he made to take his hand away but Stiles stopped scratching and looked at him. “Do you wanna talk?”

“About what?”

Derek rolled his eyes. “About whatever it is that’s bothering you.”

“Then we’d have to say here all night.”

“Why aren’t you talking to Scott?”

Stiles grimaced. 

“And why can’t you sleep?”

“Dealing with werewolves isn’t enough to make me lose sleep?”

“No. It’s not. You’ve been running with wolves for two years. You slept just fine before.”

Stiles didn’t answer. Just kept worrying at his lip.

“Do you wanna talk about it? I promise I won’t tell anyone or judge or make fun of you or...anything.”

It was several minutes before Stiles turned to look at him. “Things got...rougher after you left. Something happened. I couldn’t…” He took a deep breath and ran his hand through his long hair. “I accidentally killed someone.”

Derek’s brain short-circuited.  _ What?! _

“I didn’t mean to! I swear, Derek, I didn’t!” Stiles was shaking his head and was reaching for Derek. His heart was going a mile an hour and Derek could smell the anxiety lingering on his skin, the sweat forming on his forehead.

He moved closer to him and touched his shoulder, squeezing. “It’s okay, Stiles.” 

“He...he just came at me. I didn’t mean to hurt him, I just wanted to get away from him, get my dad, warn him. I don’t know. It all happened so fast, you know? There was blood everywhere. My hands, my clothes, the floor.” Stiles shook visibly. “I didn’t want to leave him there but...I was scared. I just wanted to call Scot, or Lydia. Or you. But I didn’t. And when I told Scott he didn’t help.”

“He... _ what _ ?”

Stiles just nodded frantically. “He just, he told me I had a choice. I could have chosen to  _ not  _ kill him.”

“Stiles.” He was rubbing at a spot on his cheek. “Scott has been lucky enough he’s never been in a position in which he  _ had _ to choose.”

“No, yeah, I know. And I know he thinks he’s right and...everything. But, he didn’t help me. We’re supposed to be brothers, you know? I always got his back. Always. No matter how much it hurt and how much pain it’d bring me. Whatever he needed, I just did it. And then  _ I _ needed him. And he wasn’t there.”

Derek kept his hand on his shoulder, wishing he could pull some of his pain away. “You stopped talking after that?”

“We didn’t stop talking. It just wasn’t the same anymore. He’d call and I’d still go. And we talk some times. But-”

“It’s not the same.”

He nodded.

“You think you’ll be able to work things out?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I went away to college and it got worse. We would text, see if the other was alright but…”

“You were with Lydia the other day. You guys still getting along?”

“Yes. Lydia has been an angel, I swear. Whenever she’s down she comes to see me. Brings me doughnuts sometimes.”

“I guess your thing with her is going well, then,” he said.

Stiles laughs at that. An actual laugh. His whole body moves with the shakes of it. 

“Oh, my god. Lydia Martin and Stiles Stilinski were never meant to be, Derek. I thought you knew that.”

“Wh- When I left you were still hung up on her.”

“No. I really wasn’t.”

“You weren’t?”

“No.”

“Oh. Well. You didn’t tell me, how was I supposed to know. I know you had something with Malia-”

“Oh. No. That. No.”

Derek raised an eyebrow. “No?”

“That was a mistake. She’s… Malia is a very nice person. But I shouldn’t have...I just shouldn’t have.”

“Okay. Like me and Braeden.”

“Yeah, but maybe not like that.”

“Maybe,” he paused.  "Stiles-"

There was a buzz from somewhere on the couch. Stiles had dropped his phone and it was buzzing non-stop. 

“It’s my dad.”

Instead of answering it, he just kept staring at the screen.

“You’re not picking up?”

“It’s nearly four in the morning. He should be working.”

“Might be important, though.”

Stiles nodded. “Hello?” he said uncertainly.

“ _ Where are you?!” _ Derek heard Sheriff’s voice booming through the phone. Stiles winced.

“Weren’t you supposed to be at work?”

“ _ And you were supposed to be in bed. Sleeping. Where are you, Stiles?” _

“I needed to leave the house for a minute.”

“ _ Don’t lie to me. Are you in danger? Are you with Lydia? Or Scott?” _

Stiles glanced at Derek. “No, I’m with someone else. I’m safe, dad.”

Derek heard the sigh of relief. “ _ Goddamnit, Stiles, you can’t keep doing this. The last time this happened I thought-”  _

“Dad, I’m fine, I swear. I’m not drinking or smoking or running through the woods with wolves-”

“ _ Stiles!” _

“Well, I’m not! I thought that might make you feel better.”

“ _ Where are you? _ ”

“I...would rather not tell you.”

When Stiles looked at him, Derek raised an eyebrow. 

“ _ Stiles, if you don’t tell me right now-” _

“Dad. I am okay. I am safe, nothing can hurt me where I am and I’m not alone. Okay? I promise there’s nothing to worry about. I promise, dad.”

After a moment, the Sheriff’s breathing slowed down. “ _ Fine. But we’re talking about this in the morning. Are you staying there?” _

Derek nodded when Stiles mouthed ‘ _ Can I?’ _ at him.

“Yes.”

“ _ Stiles, _ ” he paused. _ “Should I be worried you’re getting someone pregnant or-” _

“Oh, my god, dad!” Derek couldn’t help stiffling a laugh at Stiles’s red ears.

“ _ I’m just saying. If I need to-” _

“Dad, I’m hanging up now. Talk to you tomorrow.”

“ _ Fine. I love you _ .”

“I love you, too,” he said softly.

When he put down the phone, Stiles was smiling.

“I think you’re getting an earful in the morning.”

“I think so, too.” He pulled his car keys and wallet from his pockets and put them on the coffee table. “Are you sure I can crash here?”

Derek nodded. “Yeah, no problem.”

Derek helped Stiles with the sheets and blankets for the couch and went to the bathroom to brush his teeth and change. He picked some clean sweat pants and a shirt for Stiles and left them in the bathroom.

“There’s clean clothes and towels in the bathroom. You use whatever you want.”

Stiles thanked him and made to the bathroom. Derek fell asleep before he could hear him coming back from the shower.


	3. Chapter 3

> **Honestly, you’d think I could find the motivation to study since I have all this free time on my hands but no**

Derek snorts at Stiles’s text message. After looking all over town trying to find a new apartment, Derek was left confused and with no idea of what to do. About anything. He was frustrated and feeling lonely and there was no one to talk to.

He replied to Stiles.

< **Are you just fucking around on the Internet?**

There was a text, after a few moments.

> **Hum, yes. Duh.**

< **Did your dad give you grief after you got home last week?**

**> No. Just made sure I was okay and kept asking me about you.**

Derek frowned.

< **About me?**

**> I mean, wanting to know who I was with. Thanks for letting me stay. And letting me vent.**

**< Anytime.**

When he got to the Loft, he had his hands filled with information about all the places he visited and a few job applications he meant to send out. He was ready. Ready to start living a normal life, for once. He had thought about what he promised to Stiles and he had asked Deaton to help him find someone to help him through everything.

“I am extremely happy you’re doing this, Derek. It’ll be very beneficial”, he had said.

Derek wasn’t so sure. But he was willing to try and he had promised Stiles.

**< Deaton is helping me find a therapist.**

Derek was sure Stiles was bored out of his mind and was just finding excuses not to study because it only took a second for Derek to get a reply.

**> No way! You’re actually doing this?**

**< I told you I would. What about you?**

**> I mentioned that to dad. He was happy about it but we haven’t talked about it since.**

**< You should.**

**> Honestly happy you’re doing this, Sourwolf **

There was a smiley face after that.

 

*

 

Derek ran into the Sheriff a few days later. He was shopping for food, just the essentials, when there was a pat on his arm. He recognized the scent.

“Derek,” he nodded.

“Sheriff, it’s nice to see you.”

“Stiles told me you were in town. For good this time?”

“I’m looking for an apartment. I’m hoping it’s permanent.”

“You just took off last time. Stiles told me you were also looking for a job.”

“I am. But there’s not much to do around here with my qualifications.”

“Stiles also told me you haven’t finished your degree.”

Derek snorted. “I have the feeling he told you my whole life story.”

The was a playful smile on his lips when he said, “Well, it is Stiles we’re talking about.”

“True.” He was only looking for some milk and now he was in deep conversation with the Sheriff with no idea how to get out of it.

“Derek, I’m gonna ask you something, son, and I’m hoping to get a straight answer from you.”

Derek stood up straighter and nodded slowly.

“Stiles,” he started, “has been through some difficult things.”

He paused and Derek nodded again.

“He told you?”

“About…”

“Donovan.”

Derek nodded again. Stiles had called late one night to talk. He didn’t tell but Derek knew it was a nightmare that woke him up, and Donovan seemed the only thing he wanted to talk about.

The Sheriff sighed and looked down. “I figured he’d tell you. Was he with you, the other night?”

“The other-”

“Don’t play me,” he said sternly, “you know what I’m talking about.”

At that, Derek nodded once more. “He was safe. He just crashed there and then went home in the morning.”

“He does that sometimes. Just leaves the house and doesn’t tell me where he’s going. I thought,” he paused and took a deep breath. “I thought things were better between us, like he knew he could just tell me everything, I wouldn’t judge or make him feel worse.”

“He knows that. He told me you were being great with him after the whole,” he moved his hand around.

The Sheriff nodded curtly and looked around.

“I think he just needs time. To process everything.”

“Things with Scott aren’t great either.”

“Scott’s an idiot. I’m sorry, sir, but he is,” he quickly said. “Stiles is human. He can’t protect himself like we can, and sometimes you have to do what you have to do. Scott shouldn’t blame him because of it.”

“I think Allison’s death also took a toll on Scott.”

“It was hard on Stiles as well. It was hard on all of us. But it just seems like he’s blaming Stiles for it and I’m positive that’s how Stiles is thinking.”

“It was not his fault!”

“Of course it wasn’t. But do you think he knows that? Everything happened so quickly, it was one thing and then another and Stiles is only human, he deals with things his way and sometimes he just...overthinks.”

The Seriff just nodded.

“I,” he paused, not sure if it was his place to talk about it with him. He did anyway. “Stiles talked to me about seeing a therapist.”

“Yes. I’m looking. I also talked to Argent and Deaton about it. I don’t know if it’s best to see a regular therapist or one of you.”

“Of us?”

“You know,” he quickly looked around them, to the empty aisle “someone supernatural.”

Derek hid a grin. “Deaton found someone for me. He might be abe to help find someone for Stiles.”

“You’re seeig someone?” He sounded surprised. That was something Stiles hadn’t told him, Derek thought.

“Stiles made me promise I would.”

At that, the Sheriff smiled fondly. “That does sound like him. Derek, if he shows up again, tell me. Just so I won’t have to worry he’s out there somewhere alone.”

At his tone of voice, so full of sorrow and pain, Derek nodded.

 

*

 

“Dad is telling me to tell you you should go over the station this week.”

“Hello to you too, Stiles.”

He heard Stiles huff on the other side. “Were you guys talking about me?”

“What?” he manouvered his phone to the other side and managed to carry his plate of food over to the table.

“I know you saw dad.”

“Yeah, I did.”

“Talked about me?”

“Narcisistic much? And what do you mean your dad wants me to go by the Station? What did I do?”

Stiles laughs at that. “I don’t know, he won’t tell me either.”

Derek huffs.

“I don’t think it’s anything bad. He just came home, told me he ran into you and then told me you should go and see him this week.”

“Yeah, I was out shopping.”

“For your new place?” Stiles asked excitedly.

“No, you dork, for food, I’m still looking for a place.”

“You’ve been back a while. You’re sure you’re looking hard enough?”

“Oh. Shut it.”

He heard Stiles laugh and then the Sheriff’s voice.

“Dad’s telling me dinner is ready. You should come by tomorrow, or something. We could hang. If you want.”

“Sure. I’ll let you know.”

 

*  
  
Derek spent the next week walking around town sending job applications and looking for an apartment. What he told the Sheriff was the truth; there were not many options left when you had no qualifications. He went to two job interviews and he wasn’t feeling hopeful at all.

He was also having no luck finding a good place to live. He didn’t want to live in the outskirts of Beacon Hills but he didn’t know if it was wise to buy an apartment so close to other residencies when there were werewolves around. Or so he hoped. So far it had just been him and sometimes Stiles, when he felt like leaving the house. Scott hadn’t texted at all after the last message but he had talked to Isaac and Lydia. Stiles was bugging Derek about taking him on the visits, so he could choose the place. If he did, Derek would probably end up with the biggest, most outrageous place around.

“What if you buy a house instead?”

It was next saturday and Stiles had come over for lunch. Derek hadn’t invited him, he just burst in saying, “What’s for lunch?”. So now Drek is cooking them both pasta and telling Stiles he had visited lots of places and liked none.

“A house?”

“Yeah!” He was reaching the cabinet for some plates, tongue between his lips. “You’re complaining a lot about the lack of privacy and worried people will hear or see something wolf-y. Maybe try looking for a house? I mean, I’m not sure how much more expensive it is but if you’re looking to, uh, settle down, that might be a good option. I think.”

Derek heard the small uptick of his heartbeat. “You’re still worried I’m gonna leave.”

Stiles’s ears turned red and he avoided eye contact. “I’m just saying,” he grabbed two forks and two knives and made for the kitchen table, “you seem to do that a lot. And buying a ouse is a huge investement. Or so I hear. So, I’m just looking out for your assets.”

“My assets.”

“Yeah, you have no job, no house, no...I don’t know. I don’t want you to invest in something that’s just gonna go to waste and then you have no money and no house...”

“And no job?”

“Yeah.”

Derek snorted. “You’re an idiot.”

“An idiot who’s looking out for your assets.”

“Still an idiot. Look,” he stopped stiring the vegetables and looked at Stiles, “Beacon Hills will always be my home. It has hurt me in more ways than I can count but it is my home. It was my parent’s and my family’s and it is mine. I can go away sometimes, and I can stay gone for a long time but…I always feel the pull. To come home. So,” he took a breath, “it is a good investment. For the long run.”

“Right.” His heartbeat had slowed down and Stiles seemed calmer. But Derek could see the way his nails were digging into his skin and see how bright his eyes were.

“Stiles.” He looked up. “I am here, now.”

“For how long?”

“I don’t know. But I hope for a long time.”

“It just…”

“You feel lonely.”

Stiles seemed about to retort, to deny. His cheeks coloured and he opened his mouth. But then he let out a breath and let his head hung. And nodded.

“I feel that way, too. When I’m surrounded by people it still feels like the darkness presses in. That if I let go just one bit I’ll never get myself back again That the night will just tire me out forever and I won’t be able to wake up. Or if I do, everyone will have moved on but me. I know what it feels like. But I am here now. And you are too. And even if we don’t have anyone else to pull us from this, we have each other. And we’ve never failed each other, have we?”

Stiles looked at him and smiled.

“Come on, let’s eat.”

 

*

 

Stiles was about to leave when he stopped and turned around.

“My dad is still waiting for you to go by the station.”

“Oh. Shit, it slipped my mind. Is he around today?”

“Yeah, I was about to drop there and then head home.”

“I’ll go with you.” He found his wallet and his car keys and locked the door behind them.

He pulled into the parking lot and parked next to Stiles’s Jeep.

“Do you know what this is about?”

“I don’t know. I’ve been trying to make him tell me but no use. Maybe you left town and left parking tickets behind?”

Derek shook his head.

The station was buzzing with police officers, some working at their tables, some talking by the cofee machine. Derek could see the Sheriff in deep conversation with two other colleagues. Stiles pulled his sleeve and made towards his father.

“Hey, pops.”

John looked up and smiled. “Hey! Good lunch?”

“Yeah, Derek is a good cook. Also, I brought him. Can you tell us what this is about now?”

Derek said hello and shook the Sheriff’s hand. There were people looking and the two officers who moments ago were talking to the Sheriff were now narrowing their eyes at Derek and Stiles’s hand that was still holding Derek’s sleeve. The Sheriff also noticed because he looked around and then nodded towards his office.

“Let’s take it inside, boys.”

The moment the door closed Derek could hear loud and clear the conversations on the other side.

_“That was Hale.”_

_“With his son. Did you see how close they were?”_

_“Oh, god, and the hand. You think they’re a thing?”_

_“They’re not gay!”_

_“How do you know that?”_

_“Look at Hale. Jesus.”_

_“Yeah, but Stilinski?”_

_“Nah. His dad would kill him.”_

_“Oh, come on.”_

_“Also, Hale is trash. Remember that…”_

“Derek? Hello?!”

“Sorry. People outside...” Stiles hand was raised. “Were you about to slap me again?”

“Again?!” asked the Sheriff, looking at his son.

Stiles just rolled his eyes and sat down next to Derek. “Last time he was out cold and I thought he was dead. Give me a break.”

“So you slapped him?”

“I was panicking! There was no one around, and he was just lying there. Do you know how many times I found Derek lying on the floor because someone decided to beat the shit out of him? Or how many times he disappeared because some crazy ass bitch just took him and-”

“Stiles.” Derek touched his forearm and pinned him with his eyes. “It’s okay.”

“Right.” He swallowed and his heart rate slowly returned to normal. “Sorry.”

The Sheriff sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Sometimes I forget you’ve experienced more death and danger than anyone your age.”

Stiles looked down at his lap and shrugged. His shoulders were tense and he could smell the distress coming off him. Derek touched his arm again and squeezed.

John cleared his throat and looked away for a moment.

“Right. Well, I don’t really need Stiles here for this but-”

“I wanna know what-”

“It’s nothing bad, and Derek will probably tell you right away so it’s fine.”

Stiles grinned.

“So, we have an opening position here, at the station and-”

“Oh, my god! You want Derek to be a deputy!”

The Sheriff sighed and looked at Derek. “Yes, if you want to.”

_Shit._

“I…” He paused and looked at Stiles. His eyes were bright and there was this small smile on his lips and he looked _smug_. “Were you lying when you told me you didn’t know what this was about?”

“No!”

Derek raised his eyebrows.

“Well, I might have thought about it. But I wasn’t sure.”

“You don’t have to answer right away. But I think you’d be a great asset to our team.”

“Asset.”

Derek rolled his eyes at Stiles.

“I will think about it, of course. But...have you talked to anyone about this?”

“About you working here? No. Why?”

“They don’t seem to like me very much,” he said nodding to the door.

“I’ll handle them, don’t worry.”

“What are they saying,” asked Stiles.

Derek shook his head. “Nothing nice.”

“Dad, control your pups or I’ll kick them.”

“Oh, for fu- you can both go now,” he said quickly. “But get back to me as soon as you can, Derek. We’re understaffed and we do really need the help. Especially from someone like you.”

“He means a wolf.”

“I know what he means, Stiles.”

He thanked the Sheriff and led Stiles outside. He tried to keep a certain distance from him but he was having none of that.

“Why are you so tense? Dad was super nice. It’s a good opportunity. Do you know what you’re going to do about it?”

Derek shrugged and narrowed his eyes at a couple of deputies who were looking at them funny.

“Derek,” Stiles said slowly after noticing them looking, “what are they saying?”

“Don’t.” He tried to rush Stiles out of the door but he was resisting his touch. “Stiles, let’s just go.”

“Are they being judgemental pricks because I accused you of murder? Do they think my dad was questioning you or something?”

“No. Now, let’s go.”

Stiles just pressed closer and angrily whispered, “Derek, what are they saying?”

“There’s no way you’re letting go without making a scene, is there?”

“I will not make a scene. I’ll just annoy the shit out of you until you tell me.”

“Can I tell you outside?”

“Why outside?”

“Because you’re already making a scene.”

“I’m not making a scene!”

“Everyone’s staring at us.”

Stiles was about to retort but looked around.

“Fine. Let’s make a scene outside.”

 

*

 

Stiles was pissed. Derek thought he’d be angry because they thought they were dating but that was not why he was yelling at Derek like it was his fault.

“Stiles, it’s really not my fault they thought we were a couple.”

“That’s not the freaking point! I don’t give a flying fuck if they think we’re dating - it’s actually a huge compliment they think I’d be able to snag someone like you, - but to say that my dad would beat me if I were gay? And that you can’t be gay because you’re-” he moved his arm to indicate Derek’s figure, “you know. That’s just-” Stiles made a sound at the back of his throat and flopped fown on the couch.

“Stiles, it’s not a big deal.”

“That they’re homophobic pricks?”

“I hear that all the time.”

“Homophobic comments?!” Stiles raised his eybrows at him.

“I mean the awful comments. About my looks and what happened to me and wat I did and how much I look like a murderer.”

Stiles’s eyes got bigger and his mouth fell open. “Oh, my god. How come I never thought how awful it’d be to have super hearing?”

“Cause you only focus on the good parts?”

“Yeah, but...Oh, my god.”

Derek shrugged. “Are you going to be okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“When I told you you seemed like you were about to burst into the station and treat everyone with a round of your bat.”

“Is that why you followed me home?”

“Wanted to make sure you wouldn’t rip their throats off before I got the chance to know them.”

Stiles snorted. “That sounds more like your kind of thing. So you’ve decided, then?”

“I think so. I mean, like you said, it’s a great opportunity.”

“I think so, too. But if you get the chance, kick teir asses for me, will you?”


	4. Chapter 4

The first day on the job was awful. Derek thought it’d be easy, like he’d be welcomed and he’d hit it off with everyone. But, honestly, people didn’t seem to like him and he spent the majority of his time filling out papers and listening to the Sheriff about procedures.

“Son, how about we call it a day? Go home, take these files with you and be here bright early in the morning.” Derek agreed and drove home.

 

*

 

The moment he dropped his car keys on the bowl, next to a framed picture of Laura, on the mantle, his phone started buzzing in his pocket.

“I got off work 10 minutes ago, how are you calling me already?”

“Hey, there Der-bear.”

Derek stopped mid-motion and grabbed his phone harder. “Stiles. You’re drunk.”

“Yes. And no. I could be drunker, honestly.”

“Where are you?”

He heard Stiles sigh and then something shattering.

“Did you just drop your glass?”

“I...might have.”

“Don’t step on the shards.”

“I’m not that stupid.”

“No, but you’re that clumsy. Where are you?”

“You’ll never guess.”

He couldn’t hear anything besides Stiles breathing and his sniffles. Oh, fuck, _was he crying?_

“Are you safe?”

“Well, now you just sound like my dad.”

“He doesn’t know where you are. You’re not home, are you?” He already knew the answer and didn’t wait for one. “Just tell me where you are and I’ll come get you.”

“I’d rather if you just joined me.”

“I’d rather you weren’t god knows where, all by yourself, drinking - and you’re not legally allowed to drink by the way.”

He heard a strangled noise from he other side of the phone and Stiles sighing. “I was...lonely? Wasn’t that what you said the other day? That you knew how it felt. The pressure building in your chest, the feeling of the walls closing in and...all that shit.”

“I do. I do, Stiles, but I don’t want you out there alone.”

“Because I might get hurt.”

“Yes.” Derek wanted to scream.

“Because I’m weak.”

_What.The. Fuck._

“Who said you were weak? Honestly, Stiles, who said that? Because if that’s the impression you have of yourself or if anyone has ever told you that they lied, okay?. And you’re lying to yourself.” Derek took a deep breath and walked out the door towards his car. “Now, for fuck’s sake, just tell me where you are.”

 

*

 

Derek found Stiles lying on the floor of Derek’s old home, his hand grabbing the bottle of what he was fairly sure was whiskey, by his side. He felt like crying.

“Hey,” he said as he sat down next to him. He had his eyes opened, staring at the sky.

“Hey.”

“Do you want to talk?”

He shook his head.

They fell silent for a few minutes. Derek didn’t stop him from taking another swing at the whiskey but he touched his face, gently, his index finger grazing his fair skin, scattered with moles, when a single tear rolled down from the corner of his eyes and fell. Derek wanted to take the pain away.

They stayed there for hours. Derek untangled his legs and spread them in front of him, hands supporting him behind his back, his palms down on the earth, feeling something hurting inside of him thinking about this place, this place that meant so much to him and where his hurt stemmed from. This place that Stiles sought out to be alone with his own pains.

Derek wanted to ask him. _Why this place?_ But Stiles’s tears still fell, silently, from time to time so he just tried to get closer to him and touched his shoulder from time to time.

He did stop him from drinking the whole bottle though.

When the sun set, when he could no longer ignore the fact that he should get Stiles home and let him sober up first, he kneeled besides Stiles, who had his eyes closed and his eyelashed wet.

“We have to go.”

Stiles just shook his head.

“I have to take you home. I’ve heard your phone buzz a million times already. Your dad must be worried sick.”

“I…” He closed his eyes harder, jaw clenching. “I can’t let him see me like this.”

“Hey. Look at me.” He reached out and touched his arm. He was cold, the sun no longer there to warm his skin. “We’ve never let each oter down, have we?” Stiles shook his head. “Okay, than you trust me enough to make this call for you?” Stiles frowned but nodded after a second. “We don’t have to take you to your dad. You can stay at mine. But you will feel better after some food and a shower.”

Stiles’s fingers slowly dropped from the bottle and he nodded again. His eyes were rimmed red from the tears and he looked defeated.

“Come on, I’ll help you up.”

 

*

 

Derek stopped at the diner near his place and ordered burgers and fries for the both of them to take home. He locked the door behind them after helping Stiles up the stairs and ordered him to take a shower and wear whatever he wanted.

“Just help yourself to anything. There’s a toothbrush under the sink if you want to.”

Stiles just nodded and made way to the bathroom, eyes unfocused.

After he locked the door, Derek put the bag of food in the oven so it wouldn’t get cold and changed clothes. When he pulled out his phone he dialed the Sheriff’s number. He picked up on the first ring.

“Derek.” He could hear the desperate tone in his voice.

“He’s okay. He’s with me.”

“Oh, thank god.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t call earlier but I didn’t want to upset him.”

“He’s okay?”

Derek thought lying would be easier.

“No. He’s…” He didn’t know.

“He does this.”

“You told me.”

“When he does this, I always think I won’t be seeing him again.”

Derek’s heart broke.

“He called me. He was drinking. But he called me. He’s safe. He’s showering and I brought some food so he won’t feel like death tomorrow.”

“Why didn’t he call me?” The Sheriff’s voice cracked at the end. He was sure he was crying silent tears, just like his son.

“I think he doesn’t want to drag you into this.”

“I’m his father! There’s no one left for me to worry about. Everything is about him and how he’s doing and how he’s feeling and Derek, I would die for my boy, he must know that!”

“He knows that, sir. He does, I promise. It’s not about you, it’s about protecting you from seeeing him like this.”

“But he’s okay with you seeing him like this.”

“We’ve been through this together. He’s seen me at my worst.”

“He sees you as an equal.”

“He sees me as someone who can relate to the pain.”

The Sheriff sighed. “I don’t know what to do,” he muttered.

“Call Deaton, ask him for help. Find someone he can talk to. It won’t go away overnight but therapists help. We’re doing our best but we’re not educated enough on this and god knows I need my fair share of help.”

“Will you tell him to come home tomorrow? Or...if he doesnt want to, to just drop by and let me see him?”

“I will. I’ll take care of him, he’ll be okay.”

“I’ll call Deaton first thing tomorrow.”

“That’s good, sir.”

“Stop calling me ‘sir’, it’s freaking me out.”

“More than me being a werewolf?”

“Yes.”

Derek smiled. “I’m gonna hang up now, I think he’s done with his shower.”

“Derek, thank you.”

“No worries.”

“No. He...stopped being my Stiles when Scott stopped talking to him but you’re helping, I think.”

“And Lydia.”

“Lydia is an angel, but she’s far away and they have a different relationship than you two do.”

“Different?”

“They’re like brother and sister. He wants to pretend he can always save her from whatever. He doesnt let _her_ help him like he does you. He’s never called her. It was usually Lydia and I searching the whole town for him. He wouldn’t call either of us.”

Derek remained silent.

“Take care of him, Derek.”

“I will.”

 

*

 

Stiles complained his stomach wasn’t up for burger and fries but Derek made him eat everything slowly.

“How’s your head?”

“It’s killing me. And everything is tilted.”

Derek huffed a laugh and went to get something for his headache and a glass of water.

“You didn’t have to do this.”

Derek raises his hed to look at Stiles, while he fumbles with his water. “Help you with your hangover?”

Stiles shrugged. “Everything. Coming to me, bringing me here. Calling my dad.” At that he stares at Derek, a small smile in his lips.

“I...didn’t think you’d heard that.”

“I still have ears and they work perfectly fine. But, thanks. I didn’t want to talk to him just yet.”

“He told me to tell you that he wanted to see you. Even if you didn’t want to go home just yet. Just drop by and see him.”

“Make sure I haven’t hurt myself or some shit.”

“I…” Derek shook his head.

“You don’t need to say anything.”

“He’d just worried. And he doesn’t know what to do but he wants to help.”

“Sometimes you just need to be alone.”

“That I understand.”

“I know you do.”

 

*

 

That night, Derek didn’t let Stiles sleep on the couch.

“It’s perfectly fine, Derek, why are you being such an ass?”

“I’m offering my bed, how is that being an ass?”

“I’m not letting you sleep on the couch.”

“You slept on the couch and you were fine.”

“Exactly! So why can’t I just sleep here again?”

“Stiles, get your ass in bed before I drag you.”

“You can’t make me.”

“Yes, I can, and you know it.”

Stiles was about to retort but he closed his mouth and side eyed Derek’s bed. “Fine, but you’re sleeping with me.”

_Shit. What?_

Derek could feel the tips of his ears burn and Stiles must have realized what he had just said because his cheeks were tinged pink.

“I mean, there’s enough space for the both of us and it’s not like we’ve never slept in the same bed before. Yes. it was usually under different circumstances in which you were either being hunted or inj-”

“Fine. Come on.”

Derek picked up his pillow from the couch and headed for the bed. Stiles took a few minutes to settle down, his body finding the best position. Derek noticed he was trying to not touch him.

He turned sideways, towards him. “Stiles, just rest.”

“I’m gonna.”

“Yeah? Or are you just gonna toss and turn and pass out from exhaustion?”

At that, he stopped moving. “Happens to you, too?”

Derek nodded. “Your brain is just going a thousand miles an hour and you can’t help yourself.”

“I always think that, you know, with the drinkning, it’d help. It doesn’t. If I hadn’t called you I’d have probably drank the whole bottle and passed out but now I’m better and everything’s just coming back.”

“What are you thinking about?”

Stiles raised his brow at him. “Playing shrink, are you?”

“Just tell me the first thing that pops into your mind.”

“You’re not gonna like it.”

“Come one, just tell me.”

“You.”

 _Gods help me._ Derek was rethinking this entire situation and his face was burning. He was glad the lights were out.

“Me?” He stammered out.

“Yeah. Just, this is weird.”

“You mean, _I’m_ weird?”

“No. Just, this,” he gestured between the two of them. “I kow we’ve slept together before but I always felt it was a decision made hastly on your part. Like, ‘I’m just gonna crash on your bed because there are these guys with wolfsbane laced bullets out to get me and I need a place to hide’ and not like this.”

“What do you mean?”

“Like you trust me.”

At that, Derek frowned.

“Why the fuck wouln’t I trust you, you fucking moron?”

Stiles looked at him and just parted his lips, seeming lost.

“It feels like if there’s one person I should trust it’s you. Like you said, I did always go to you for help and you’ve always protected me. Even when you shouldn’t have. Even when you should have just run and never looked back.”

“I-”

“No, really, Stiles. I feel like if there’s one person I’ll always be indebted to it’s you, for all the times you’ve helped, and saved me. And took all my shit without putting a bullet through me. Or hitting me with your bat.”

“I did punch you, though.”

Derek laughed. “Well, life or death situation.”

He could make out the small smile on Stiles’s lips and it made his heart jump and break and sing, all at the same time.

“I trust you, too.”

Derek reached out and let his fingers touch Stiles’s hand. Stiles looked down and turned his palm up, fingers grazing Derek’s wrist. He couldn’t help the frantic beating of his heart and the goosebumps on his skin. He focused on Stiles’s heart instead and was pleased to find it matched his own heartbeat.

“I’m sorry I left without a proper goodbye. I didn’t,” he took a deep breath “I didn’t know how to let go. And I think I kew it wouldn’t be permanent.”

“I’m sorry how I reacted when I first saw you. It’s not your fault I’m this damaged and can’t handle people going away for a while.”

“No, it was completely justified. I owed you a goodbye, at least.”

“But it wasn’t a goodbye.”

“You didn’t know that.”

“No. True. I thought you were happy with Braeden.”

“I was. For a while. But then it was too much.”

“What was?” Stiles was still looking at their hands, laced between them, alternating between squeezing his fingers and carassing his hand with his thumb.

“I wanted to let every thought of revenge and sadness and loneliness behind. I wanted out. But Braeden’s life is all about chasing and fighting and I had enough bruises already.”

His hand was being lifted and when he looked, Stiles was looking right back at him and was kissing the inside of his wrist, twisting his hand so he could have acess. His lips were _so_ soft and the touch so gentle Derek felt like crying.

“Maybe coming back was your way of healing,” Stiles whispered against his skin. “Maybe we’ll heal together.”

Derek slowly raised their hands and brought his lips to Stiles’s knuckles and kissed them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have any suggestions or anything you'd like to see, please do tell. Please leave me some feedback! <3


	5. Chapter 5

Two weeks into his new job, Derek found himself sat in front of the Sheriff.

“He’s been with you a lot, lately.”

“Stiles?”

The Sheriff nodded. “I’ve noticed, of course. As did Lydia. She says he still texts her and calls whenever he’s studying and having a problem he can’t solve but that’s he’s talking about you a lot lately. Telling her about your shifts here and how you spend your free time and how he’s helping you find a  _ house _ .”

Derek gulped. The thing was, Derek was finding it difficult to stay away from Stiles. He thinks a part of him always found it hard to just stay away. Always finding an excuse to talk to him, to seek his advice. But lately there had been something  _ domestic _ about the whole thing. How Stiles called whenever Derek was home and asked him if he wanted something to eat because the Sheriff was on night shifts and he was cooking dinner and didn’t want to eat alone. Or how, sometimes, he’d just come into the station to say hello to his dad and he’d bring Derek his favourite coffee from the bakery down the street. He didn’t care that everyone would just stand around, pretending to do some work, while Derek spoke to him and sometimes both Stiles and the Sheriff. And he was aware of the eyebrow raises it got him from his collegues, the whispers. But Stiles was a touchy person, always had been, and sometimes he couldn’t stop Stiles from touching his arm and one time he helped fixing his tie. Derek was mortified.

“He...he’s easy to be with.”

“Easy?” At that, the Sheriff raised his brows at him. Derek flushed.

“Not, jesus, not like that.” He sighed and twisted his hands in his lap. “I know he’s seeing a therapist, Deaton told me.”

“Deaton also told me you are, as well.”

“Yes. Exactly. One of the most important things when you’re trying to get better is being with your friends. And, look, I’m not going to lie to you and pretend that Stiles is just a friend to me. I haven’t had a friend in ages, someone I could trust. And I’d trust Stiles with my life.”

“So, you’re saying he’s more than a friend?”

“I’m saying I’m new to the whole therapy thing and that Stiles is the closest person I have and the one I can count on for everything.”

“Have you ever found yourself in a...sexual environment with my son?”

_ What the fuck _ . Derek was willing the earth to swallow him whole.

“We’ve- Sheriff, we’ve never even kissed. He’s slept in my bed a few times and we might have held hands but that’s it. And I don’t think- ”

“Son, let me level with you. I know my son. And I know you and him have always been more than just friends, even through all the werewolf crap, and the near-death experiences. Am I wrong?”

“No. I mean. I- I’m not sure. I always thought he was a pain in my ass, aways getting into trouble, always running after Scott, getting  _ themselves _ into trouble. But, I cannot deny that he wasn’t also a safe place for me. Not you house, sir. Though at times that’s where I’d find safety, but him. He’s very loyal to the point of idiocy.”

“Like with Scott.”

“I’m not Scott,” Derek exclaimed loudly. 

“You’ve talked about him with Stiles?”

“I know why they don’t talk as much.”

“ _ Anymore _ , you mean.”

Derek just shrugs. “I’m not Scott. What Scott did was find the easy way out when his friend was in pain. Sometimes you can’t shoulder that pain for them but you can ease it. I think, in a way, that’s what Stiles did for me. He never pushed me into doing anything. Yes, he’d nag me and talk for days, but he never pressure me into anything I didn’t want and he always,  _ always _ , got my back. Even when I did’t deserved it. And that’s why I’m loyal to him, too. We’ve never let each other down. And yes, okay, there might be something on my side that’s not just friendship but he needs a friend, first of all. And if I can give him that support, and if that support means i have to cook for him and play games on his computer at weird hours of the day, and if it means I’ll have to pick up my phone and meet him at three o’clock in the morning because he’s feeling lousy, then I will. I’m sorry if you’re against that. I’m not forcing him into anything and I would never. But I think I’ve been a good friend for him and he’s been helping me as well. So,” he took a deep breath and looked the Sheriff in the eye, “that’s it.”

The Sheriff sighed. A long, exhausted sound. He leaned back into his chair and folded his hands into his lap. Derek thought the fight had just gone out of him.

“Stiles is seeing his therapist. And he’s seeing you. And I can hear you talking sometimes in his room, when both of you should be sleeping. But I can’t deny he’s been a little better.”

“He’s been through a lot. He needs time.”

“He ever told you why I made him come home from college?”

“Haum, no.”

“I called Scott, one night, worried sick because I couldn’t get a hold of him for two days straight. I called his dorm, the faculty, talked to some teachers.  _ God _ , I tried everyone that would pick up the phone and no one could tell me what was happening or where he was. Scott and I drove there and Stiles…” he took a deep breath and touched at the corners of his eyes. “He took a whole bottle of pills. His doormmate found him later that evening in the dormroom. No one knew where he was for two days and then he went back to his room and decidided to end things. He was rushed to the hospital and they had to pump his stomach and keep him for observation for days. It…” He stoppped talking altogether and looked at the floor.

“You’re scared he’ll do it again.” Derek’s heart was beating fast, his full of  _ Stiles, why, why _ . His wolf was aching to reach and touch and make sure both the Sheriff and Stiles were okay.

“Scott stopped talking to him. He doesn’t even reply to his texts anymore. He doesn’t answer Lydia’s phone calls or mine either. Look, I know he used to be a friend but he’s not acting like one. I thought after seeing Stiles on a hospital bed he’d come to his senses but…”

“Things sometimes gets in the way-”

“You came back. To Beacon Hill, to his life. You, Derek Hale, came back. You, wo had the more reasons to stay the fuck out of this god damned place. And I know you stayed in touch with him, he’d tell me everytime you texted or called. HE’d tell Lydia, as well. And he always asked her if she had heard from you.”

“I didn’t text or call enough.”

“But you still did.”

Derek sighed. “I think I missed him.” He fel his ears turn pink and a heat spread all over his body.

The Sheriff just sorted. “I figured it out before you left with Braeden.”

“What do you mean?”

“You run from things because you’re afraid you might break them. But Stiles isn’t broken. And what you two have, it isn’t broken either. And I don’t think it’s breakable”

“I’m not exacty sure we have something.”

“Don’t be an idiot. He’s lost people he cares about. His mum, his friends, Scott. Be kind to him. Be gentle. Keep doing what you are doing, son. It makes me feel like I’m not doing this alone, like there’s someone close by he can talk to and vent and be with without the guilt and the pain. This is not me telling you you should stop seeing him. This is me telling you to keep being a good friend to him. God knows he needs one.”

 

*

 

That same day, when he got home, he called Stiles.

“Wanna come over? I’ll cook you dinner.”

“Hello to you too, Der-Bear.”

“Will you ever stop callng me that?”

“Why? You don’t like it?”

Derek felt his skin getting warmer because he  _ shouldn’t  _ but yes, he did like it. He just sighed loudly and asked him again, “Do you, or do you not?”

“Sure, just have to tell my dad.”

“No worries, I already did.”

“Awe, you got my father’s blessing and everything!”

“You’re such a dork.”

He hung up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone! So sorry for being away but I'm about to start my Masters and my mental health has not been the best. I'm hoping to finish this in a couple more chapters so I hope you guys stick around. Please leave me a comment or Kudos, that would mean the world! Lots of love xxx


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry if there's any spelling mistakes. Ya gurl here is on drugs for depression and everything is fuzzy and cloudy and I'm tired all the time. I just wanted to write this and finish this chapter. Please point out any mistakes I might have made. Hopefully this fic will be finished in maybe one more chapter, maybe two.   
> Also, please send some good vibes my way since I start my Marters this month and, god, Law is gonna be the death of me, I swear.   
> Please feel free to leave a comment or some kudos. Us writers live for that shit.  
> Lots of love xxx

Stiles was sprawled on Derek’s couch, hands on his belly, laughing so hard and so loud that for a moment Derek just looked. Looked at him, this boy he wanted so much to protect and be with all the time. 

At one point in his life, Deerek was denying himself everything. No love, no friendship, no one to help him because he knew he had to do things all on his own. But this boy, laughing in front of him, just crashed into his life and broke every rule he had set up for himself.

Derek was done denying himself things he wanted if they were good for him.

“I have something to tell you,” Derek said.

He waited a few moments for Stiles to calm down and ask, “What?”

“I have picked a few houses. I’d like you to come with me and have a look at them.”

“What?! No!” He sat up fast and leaned into him. “Are you serious?”

“Yes,” he smiled. “I told you I would, didn’t I? I told you I was looking.”

“Well, yeah, but I was always nagging you and you never showed me anything.”

“I am, now.”

“Oh, my god, yes!” Stiles reached for his arm and grabbed it hard. “I’m so excited! Thank you!”

Derek shook his head and smiled. He felt his ears warming up and the skin where Stiles was touching him tingling. He looked at his eyes and felt himself slowly relax into the cushions on his couch. This was Stiles, he’d always be okay as long as he was around, as long as they kept this friendship going.

“I thought you’d like to see them.”

“Of course I would, Der-Bear. Thank you, really.”

“Why do you call me that?”

“Der-Bear? Would you rather I call you Sourwolf?” There was a smile on his lips that reached his eyes. Stiles was smiling with his whole body and Derek felt both at home and lost.

“Of course not.”

“Der-Bear feels like something only I get to see. This part of you that cooks me dinner, calls me when I nedd you to, picks up the phone when I call at three in the morning, lets me come along while house hunting. I like this Derek. Besides,” he paused and scooted closer to Derek on the couch, “I think you’ve stopped being a Sourwolf a long time ago.”

Derek gulped. His heart was in his throat and his breathing was erratic. He could feel Stiles’s heart beating so fast but he could only focus on his eyes, his face so close to his, and the place where his hands were still holding his arm. 

Derek told the world to  _ fuck off _ and reached up to interwined their fingers together.

He felt Stiles squeeze his finger and a small smile on his lips. Derek’s heart sang and he couldn’t avoid a smile of his own.

“Will I have a room in this new house of yours?”

“You can have the whole house.”

Somehow it felt like the right thing to say and they both understood.

 

*

 

A few says later, Derek was stood outside the Sheriff’s house holding a bouquet of flowers and feeling so nervous he thought he’d throw up. 

Still, he knocked.

He waited a few moments and the Sheriff opened the door and then stopped short when he looked Derek up and down and then at the flowers.

“Oh, son, you’ve got it bad.” And then he smiled.

“Too obvious?”

“I think Stiles might laugh at the flowers.”

“What? Seriously? I spent like half-”

“Is that Derek?” Came a shout from upstairs.

“Come on in before he chucks something at my head because I left you standing at the door. Also I think there’s a neighbour looking through that window over there.”

Derek glanced back at the house across the street. “He’s been there since I parked my car.”

“Well, I guess I’ll have to spend some time telling people my son is seeing a werewolf.”

“Maybe leave the werewolf part out.”

“So you are seeing each other?”

“We’re giving it a go. We haven’t exactly talked about all of this but,” Derek took a big breath in, “he did say yes when I asked him out.”

“He’s been trying to figure out what to wear for the last two hours.”

“He-”

“Dad, was that-”

Derek stood up from the couch and moved to the stairs. Stiles was wearing dress pants, a light blue shirt and was holding a blazer in his hand. Derek’s heart spiked and he could feel he heat spread through his face.

“You look amazing, Stiles.” He managed to stutter.

Stiles was still perched on the stairs, siling at Derek and looking at him up and down. “Not looking so bad yourself, Der-Bear.”

The Sheriff took that moment to step into the foyer and roll his eyes at them. “Alright, if you start with the lovey dovey names I’m gonna have to go and get my gun. Derek, the flowers,” he said holding them out to him.

“Oh, right. These are for you.”

Stiles’s eyes widened and he looked at Derek and then down at the flowers twice. “You brought me flowers?”

“Haum. Yes.”

“Oh, god.” Stiles got down the stairs and picked them up, smelling them. “You didn’t have to. This is so sweet.”

The Sheriff snorted and Stiles turned to him. “What?”

“Nothing. But I think you should go before you start making out in the couch or something. I have my limits.”

Stiles rolled his eyes at him and went to the kitchen to put the flowers in some water. Derek was sure this was the happiest he’s been in a very long time.

“I’m not setting a curfew for him,” said the Sheriff, making sure Stiles couldn’t hear him, “but make sure you’re both safe.”

“No, we’re not planning on drinking or anything so-”

“That’s not what I mean.”

“Oh.”  _ What the fuck, _ he thought. The most both of them had done was hold hands and some cuddling when watching TV. “That’s not,” he cleared his throat, “I mean we haven’t had-”

“Maybe not tonight. But be safe. And be good to him.”

“I will.” 


End file.
